If it weren’t for snakes and deranged attackers I would probably be ok with being single, I think.

My life is good for me. Might not be good for anyone else, but for me…it’s pretty rocking.

I’ve been on my own for quite a few years after being married for quite a few years. Don’t get me wrong. Marriage with the right man is probably pretty wow. But until I trip over the right man who will make marriage wow for me…I’ll keep singling along.

It took a little while to get used to living alone. It used to make me weepy (not really) knowing there was no one waiting for me to get home for work.

It used to make me a little sappy (again, not really) knowing it was another dinner alone.

But in a short time, I was totally used to it.

However, there are still times it’d be nice to have a man around.

More for snake-killing reasons and deranged garage attackers than anything else.

Because it is for those very reasons I have said to myself, “You know, this right here sister, is a lot of the reason you’re single.”

(Yeah.)

(I call myself ‘sister’ when I’m talking to me.)

The other Saturday morning, I’m sitting at my computer and I hear this hissing sound.

IN THE ROOM.

I have no dogs. I have no cats. I don’t live on a farm. I didn’t have gas.

Immediately, I scream in my head, “F’ING SNAAAAAKE.”

My damn phone is across the room. The one time I don’t have it duct taped to my forehead.

(I don’t really know how my phone is going to protect me, but I go for it. I’m sure I would have called my dad who is 35 minutes away who would have then suggested I call the maintenance guy for my complex that is only about 2.7 minutes away.)

(See? I’ll obviously always need my dad.)

I slowly get up making sure the chair doesn’t squeak, tip toe halfway across the room, and I hear it again. In slow motion, I dive onto the sofa.

I ain’t kidding. And I’m 42.

In my mind, it’s a cobra. Up on it’s hind legs.

(I know cobra’s don’t have hind legs, but you know what I’m picturing.)

I can feel my heartbeat in my throat at this point. I mean, THERE ISN’T JUST A SNAKE IN THE ROOM….THERE’S A COBRA IN THE ROOM.

Well. There was.

Until I noticed the coffee pot turned over and drying on the counter top.

And the coffee maker still on.

And that little drip that fell from the filter-cup-thing down to the burner and made the loudest, most hideous sizzling snake sound ever.

Because I forgot to turn off the coffee maker when I was cleaning the coffee pot and so the burner was still pretty bubbly hot.

Yeah. That was my snake.

Me to Me: “You know, this right here sister, is a lot of the reason you’re single.”

Now. This kind of crap ain’t just random, every blue moon kind of stuff.

This last Friday night, I had a date.

Yep. A date.

(Probably the best date ever. In my life.)

(But we’ll see how that goes and if I hear from him again.)

(But that’s not what we’re talking about here. Move along.)

I pull into my garage, grab my purse and coat, click the garage door thing to now make the garage door come down.

All I gotta do is get up the stairs and into my kitchen and call it a night.

As soon as I get out and close the car door while still inside the garage, I notice something:

I could have quite possibly been blind. Or maybe the light was out.

Yes.

That is what I noticed.

Nothing.

Apparently, the light was out in my garage. And well, I either hadn’t noticed or just decided it wasn’t worth noticing.

Because in my world, I decide what is important and when it should be important.

At approximately NOW, it is rather important the light is out.

Because I feel something faintly touch the calf of my left leg.

Yes, I did.

In a skirt and heels I break into a bust-ass sprint to the stairs that will take me up into my apartment.

In the dark.

The “Can’t see my hand in front of my terrified-a-killer-is-groping-my-left-calf face” kind of dark.

My purse is flailing, my coat is about to trip me up and I feel that shit again.

This ain’t funny.

AT ALL.

(And I have to pee.)

I run up the stairs.

Two at a time. In heels. Don’t ask how. It just happened. And somehow gracefully.

I’d like to think.

My calf is grazed AGAIN. Third time in .09 seconds.

I have now said enough expletives (isn’t that the word?) to last me through April.

(And I should really go to church twice on Sunday. If not 4 times.)

I am totally expecting the see a huge cobra.

Or some deranged attacker who has been hiding out in my garage for the night waiting to ask me about my date.

Nope.

It was my scarf. Yep. My stupid-ass scarf.

After my breathing slowed and I kicked my shoes off and flung my purse on the sofa and tried my best to tear that scarf in half which is totally impossible to do, I had a little conversation.

With myself.

Me to Me: “You know, this right here sister, is a lot of the reason you’re single.”

Just sounds like an ordinary day in my life. I, like Jen, am not single. Ya gotta be on the alert, because you rely on yourself. We have to be on the alert, because we are protecting folk. You ruled out the problematic stuff first. Then it was all smooth sailing.

Being married is like having another child. I usually have to remind him at least 3 times to do things. Take out the trash. Hey can you drop off a Tupperware order for me. Let’s just say, he epically failed on that and I drove and did it myself, even though it was 5 minutes from where he works.

Girrrrrrrrrrrrllllllllll, i just love you!! You validate my insanity!!! I don’t fear snakes in my house or in my yard. But let me see a roach and it’s ON. That’s the only thing I miss about marriage, the ex would at least kill the occasional roach that was the size of a skateboard. After 10 years of being single-ish, I have fly swatters and bug spray in the areas where I am most likely to be cornered by a roach. Not to be cocky (no pun intended) but I think the word is out about me…I rarely see one. I think the bros and sistas of the now deceased creatures have watched me in action…even when they are outside where they belong…I still spray them till they are on their backs barely kicking. Then I scoop them up with the fly swatter (hands shaking) and flush them. Twice.

The right guy will find that charming and funny. That is so some shit I would do… the difference is I play it off all cool and don’t tell my husband what I did. Because he would make fun of me endlessly.

Oh my freaking gosh. Thank you. Thank you for just being you. Thank you for making me laugh after a really long ass day. You seriously should consider getting a job for a magazine or something. I’d buy a subscription. 🙂

In all seriousness, I’m DYING to get the skinny on this date!!! 🙂 May have t take me a trip down to 3 tomorrow to see you.

Wow. Even married, I do these things. I wonder what that says? I try and push Hubs out with his friends at night. He tells me he doesn’t want to leave me alone at the house with the kids. I scoff and say we are fine and that I like it. I secretly sometimes get scared. But I will never tell him. Ever.Jessica recently posted..Monday Mumbles

Carrieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! Oh my gosh!! another post that got me falling to the ground laughing!!!!!! Your so funny hun. And yes, you deserve the best guy!! So if he can see why we all adore you he will be worth it 😉 Love love your blog.and im sooooooooooooo happy to have found u! Your my daily laughter medicine sweetie!! I have to feature you on my blog! lemme know if your up for it :))

I just laughed, like a WHOLE lot, through this post!! This is why I hate being home alone. And scary shows, you can forget that whole idea. Ain’t happenin’. Glad you’re safe from the snake and the burglar. 🙂

Always something. Like, I could be reading a book and I tend to lean towards the dramatic/suspenseful ones. And just at the time I get to the part where the killer kicks the door open or something like that….the f’ing ice bucket dumps.

I hate when you realize you’re about to die a violent death and then it turns out you were in no danger at all and then you just feel a little crazy. It happens to me roughly 2.7 times a day.Megan – Best of Fates recently posted..My Own Awkward, Lazy, Belated Project Life

Hahaha, hisssss! That is fantastic! I guess we can all freak ourselves out sometimes, single or not! 🙂 Excited about that date for you sweetheart, can’t wait to hear more about it (hint) 🙂Maren recently posted..Some days.. food sucks.

Dear God, there is nothing worse. Nothing. Convinced there is a killer or a snake and finding out you’re just a moron, is a familiar feeling to me. In other words, you are not alone. Hang in there, it wont get better. 😉 On another note, just to clarify, marriage to the right man is not really wow. It’s kind of ho-hum, and more often than not, moments of crack-a-smile, occasionally punctuated with moments of wow.

Just wanted to mention, so your expectations are low – somewhere near your ankles would be fairly appropriate – because you recently HAD A DATE!! (You know I’m DYING to hear more about the date), but I suspect you are a lady that will never tell – Unless he turns out to be gorgeous, hot, smart AND he calls you back, then you might tell.Karyn recently posted..Halfway Dead

LOL, yes there is SOME wow – credit where credit is due, he makes a mean blueberry pancake, and give a foot rub that is out of this world. He scrubs up OK too – OK, you win, utopia is out there, you just need to find him 😉Karyn recently posted..Halfway Dead

I always picture the absolute worst scenario too, but it’s because my mother totally warped me when I was a kid. I’m fine when it comes to bugs and spiders, but a mouse or anything more dangerouss than that will make me flip my wig!

There should totally be a rule against paramedics who are not hot! Maybe even a law because really, when it’s life or death, the last person you see should most definitely be hot.Amanda recently posted..The Pillow Thief

Oh sister. May I call you that? Coffee pot hissing and scarf encounters… RIGHT HERE. Been there. And I don’t go into my basement unless someone is down there with me.jennyonthespot recently posted..A Lens-Eye View

My sweet 15 year old yellow lab pup passed 3 years ago and God love her, she wasn’t the best help those last couple of years. We both were big chickens.

It is kinda funny how stuff gets so made up at those awkward times. I mean, if I’m in bed and I hear ANYTHING, it’s automatically a killer looking for a redhead in a pizza stained t-shirt falling asleep with the remote in her hand.

HA HA HA!! I’ve been scared by my own damn hair falling on my arm before, thinking it was a damn tarantula or something (in my defense, I was stung 3 times by a scorpion on my arm one time, so I’m a tad skittish). Anyway, I totally get this. 🙂Elaine recently posted..Listable Life {Fave T.V. Shows} & MEM

One of the funniest stories I ever heard was from a girlfriend whose husband bought and put away groceries before going out of town. So the next night, she’s upstairs reading and hears a loud BANG! She nearly pees her pants, goes creeping down the stairs with a baseball bat, peeking around corners, scared as hell but ready to beat the shit out of the guy with the gun in her house. I say, never take a baseball bat to a gun fight, but she was caught up in the moment.

Anywyay, the punch line is, “Of course, the first thing I think of upon hearing a loud BANG in my house is that my husband put a can of biscuits in the pantry instead of the refrigerator and they exploded…….”

Hahahahahahahahahaha! Oh, wow. It is SO nice to know I’m not the only one who does stupid shit like that. I once ran a personal best 7-mile loop at the trail because I heard keys jingling behind me and thought someone was chasing me. It was dark (bad idea, by the way) and I couldn’t see the person when I went around curves.